il@l@ng

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

~~Pablo Neruda~~

A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full
hands;
How could I answer the child?. . . .I do not know what it
is any more than he.

I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful
green stuff woven.

Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropped,
Bearing the owner’s name someway in the corners, that we
may see and remark, and say Whose?

Or I guess the grass is itself a child. . . .the produced babe
of the vegetation.

Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic,
And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow
zones,
Growing among black folks as among white,
Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the
same, I receive them the same.

And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves.

Tenderly will I use you curling grass,
It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men,
It may be if I had known them I would have loved them;
It may be you are from old people and from women, and
from offspring taken soon out of their mother’s laps,
And here you are the mother’s laps.

This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old
mothers,
Darker than the colorless beards of old men,
Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths.

O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues!
And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths
for nothing.

I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men
and women,
And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring
taken soon out of their laps.

What do you think has become of the young and old men?
What do you think has become of the women and
children?

They are alive and well somewhere;
The smallest sprouts show there is really no death,
And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait
at the end to arrest it,
And ceased the moment life appeared.

All goes onward and outward. . . .and nothing collapses,
And to die is different from what any one supposed, and
luckier.

Walt Whitman

malam ini gw lagi manteng di depan TIPI nonton liputan khusus tentang gempa di yogya yg disiarkan leh TV3 dalam acara m3 (majalah3). Dia acara ini TV3 mengirimkan reporternya on the spot utk mendapatkan berita n gambar riil gempa yogya. Gw sebetulnya agak2 penasaran juga melihat berita negara sendiri dari kacamata media asing. Awal2nya terlihat liputan tentang kondisi pengungsi yang bertebaran dimana2 gak jelas tempat dan pengaturannya. Well, yg kayak gini sih mang dah biasa. Disitu keliatan banget gak sigapnya pihak pemerintah menangani peristiwa gempa tersebut. Alasannya, bencana dikategorikan berskala kecil, jadi gak perlu campurtangan pusat untuk membentuk badan koordinasi semacam kasus Aceh. Weleh-weleh… ini tentang masalah nyawa manusia kok pake ada kategori segala??? Gw cuma bisa ngelus dada….

Yang miris lagi, waktu ada bantuan dari Polri dan ikatan istri2 Polri, yang ditunjukin pertama kali adalah upacara dengan segala tetek bengeknya. Dengan ibu2 Polri memakai seragam Pink menyerahkan bantuan secara simbolik kepada pihak daerah. Terus, ceritanya si wartawan malaysia ini mau diajak naik helikopter sambil menyaksikan sendiri bantuan dikirimkan ke tempat2 yg katanya terpencil. Menurut jadwal harusnya jam 8 pagi dah meluncur, ditungguin sampe jam 10 belum juga bergerak, katanya lagi nunggu ibu pejabat "anu" yang belum datang2 juga. Si wartawan bilang begini, "Inilah yang terjadi, birokrasi yang tidak perlu, padahal tiap detik sangat berharga utk menyelamatkan para pengungsi yg kelaparan, kami mendapat kabar bahwa di salah satu daerah pengungsian ada pengungsi yg mati karena kelaparan. Penundaan ini seharusnya tidak perlu terjadi." (setelah diterjemahkan ke bahasa Indonesia).

Terus ada Bp. Din Syamsudin selaku Ketua MUhammadiyah diwawancara. Dia mengakui dengan gamblang bahwa pemerintah belum ada tindakan yang significant, tindakan yg berarti utk penanggulangan bencana gempa di yogya ini. Waduhh… tambah confirm aja deh menunjukan kebodohan pemerintah kita, malu gak sehh!!!

Sumpe, malu bo!! Gw pikir yg kayak gini gak sampe ke luar negri, eehhh… sampe juga ke negri jiran.

Kesimpulan dari liputan itu adalah, betapa gak sigapnya pemerintah dalam penanganan pengungsi. Padahal mereka bilang bencana gempa ini berskala kecil dan bukan merupakan tragedi nasional. Yang kecil aja gak becus nanganinnya gimana yg besar toh!! 

ogh!

so i have spoken!